Endgame
by Unfriendly Fire
Summary: An interstellar Oceania called. They want to stomp on two species' faces with a boot, with strategies that the Decepticons never thought of. How will the humans, Autobots, and Decepticons react? Crossover of Transformers and Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four novel. (Significant changes to Chapter 1 and 2 on 7/10/13, minor changes to Chapter 3 on 7/13/13)
1. Chapter One, In Medias Res

**Author's Note**: This story assumes that the Deceptions were merely defeated and retreated, and that Megatron survived. This story's Beta Reader is Phoenicis Lunae.

* * *

**- Endgame -**

_**A Transformers and 1984 Crossover**_

* * *

**Chapter One - **_**In Medias Res**_

A clatter of gunfire sounded in the distance, echoing through the ruined streets of the town. Burned and shot-up houses lined the empty streets, and a United States flag in front of the post office hung upside down on a flagpole, signalling distress to those would could recognize it.

_Come on, Sam, you've got to pull yourself up! _the young man thought desperately. Slowly, he stood up, his trembling form marred with purple and black bruises.

"Bumblebee? You okay?" Sam called, looking around, but the yellow Transformer was nowhere to be found. A nearby green soldier had been punched into the wall beside him, and another one, lying lifelessly on the ground, had a completely crushed head. Both were wearing full body armor and helmets.

To Sam's left flew a swarm of identical looking, short, gray soldiers, all of whom wore helmets that completely masked their faces. The platoon of locust-like humanoids were armed with a pickaxe in one hand, and either a small submachine gun or shotgun in the other...and every one of them made a great use of their close-range weapons, running at an inhuman speed towards their target.

Behind them formed a loose line of taller, green infantry units, all of which were armed with rifles with a small label "Gauss Rifle Model CR1A" on the bottom of the rifles. These particular guns had conductive coils around their barrels, utilizing electromagnetism to propel the projectiles stored within. Judging from the destruction surrounding them, each of these rifles bore enough power to wreck both helicopter gunships and lightly armored vehicles.

Firing their weapons, the first group attacked in waves, the soldiers behind them moving up and firing as well. Cautious, the squadron carefully calculated their assaults, and frequently took cover. Even when taking pistol fire from the humans, the infantry units ducked, although their armor suits proved effective against much of their enemies' small arms fire.

Behind the green infantry, a very straight line of large, looming, black-colored infantry assembled. Each of these units bore an armband titled _"Ingsoc"_, coupled with the distinctive symbol of two hands clasped in front of a _V_.

All of the black infantry units were armed with railguns, save for one, the latter of which carried an Ingsoc flag. Each railgun used the same electromagnetism of their comrades' weapons to propel rounds at seven times the speed of sound, but with parallel, conductive rails. Though these railguns only held one round, appeared to fire at a sluggish pace, and proved prone to overheating, the guns held enough penetration power to leave deep dents in their opponents' tanks. Even if the railgun rounds miss their intended marks, their hypersonic rounds suppressed the humans with powerful shockwaves, preventing them from firing back.

Lining up in perfectly straight rows, the black infantry formed an impenetrable wall, save for a single gap in their ranks. One of them straggled behind, having walked over a bear trap, and was wasting time, shooting the device entangled around its leg.

When the straggler finally filled the gap, the first row fired over the shorter, green units and gray infantry. After briefly recovering from the recoil, they kneeled, giving their railguns time to cool down and recharge.

Firing over the first row, the second row rained a hail of bullets upon the enemy. Their perfectly synchronized cycle repeated until all of the rows had fired; then, the first row got up again, restarting the process.

A few bullets from a few police officers harmlessly ricocheted off of the black line infantry platoon, and Molotov cocktail was thrown from a house, engulfing a significant portion of the platoon in an inferno. Yet the opposing platoon didn't so much as flinch, apparently unresponsive and unaffected by small arms fire and gasoline-fed inferno.

The platoon _did_ flinch when an anti-tank missile, fired from one of the humans' armored personnel carriers, sliced through about half a row of soldiers. The first assault was followed by several cannon rounds, making a lethal mess of the soldiers' heads.

Repositioning themselves to face the offending missile-armed vehicle, the opposing army gave time for the vehicle to fire a second missile, and more cannon rounds, at their ranks. However, the vehicle's armed passengers had left a while ago, and its former occupants had since been killed.

"Haha! I love it when they refuse to shoot at things that aren't directly in front of them, and prefer to shuffle around! Too bad they aren't as smart as the other ones!" the vehicle's driver laughed as the weapon operator fired another missile, slicing additional black line infantry into halves.

There were some loud pings from gray infantry firing on the vehicle, but it didn't concern the crew too much. The gray infantry's weapons lacked sufficient power to pose any threat to armored vehicles, and thus, they ignored the gray soldiers' attack. Any green infantry with their more potent rifles were either suppressed or frightened away with counter machine gun and cannon fire.

The humans' fun finally ended when a fifteen feet tall, heavily armored bipedal mech unit ambushed them from behind. Stunning the vehicle's crew with a healthy dosage of grenades, the mech unit allowed the black line of infantry to finally reposition itself, destroying the humans' vehicle with a volley of railgun rounds.

To Sam's right, the local police force was attempting to buy time for the children at a nearby elementary school to board evacuation buses. Meanwhile, the fire department sprayed high pressure water at the swarmer gray infantry, pushing the opposing units back. Enemy rifles and rail guns bullets tore through the vehicles and humans akin to a knife through tissue paper, and the swarmer gray infantry closed in rapidly. Soon, the gray units engaged in a lopsided hand-to-hand combat with the human survivors, sometimes delivering an entire magazine of bullets or buckshot into their targets' faces.

In a cornfield some distance away, a thirty story tall machine of war painted with monochrome colors that were broken solely by a single, red eye, and two Ingsoc flag symbols painted on the left and right side, made a mincemeat of the National Guard. As it slowly strutted towards the humans with its quadruple legs, a large, steady stream of dust was being inhaled into the underside of the machine of war. It was a coal-powered variant, and thus required a significant amount of air to burn enough coal to operate the weapons.

Swinging its massive octuple rail guns armed on its left and right side, along with ultra-high energy infrared laser weapons, the machine tore through the humans with ease. Each of the weapons carried four red laser pointers, capable of selecting separate targets. Intimidating and demoralizing the humans, the machine ensured that anyone or anything with a fat red dot on on its' radar had an approximately twenty-five percent chance of being boiled alive or vaporized with large rounds flying at nine times the speed of sound...nor did it help that the seemly indestructible machine was shouting propaganda through its megaphones.

Suddenly, something - or some_one_ - yanked Sam out of the rubble.

"You are ordered to meet an InPart member!" shouted a green skirmisher infantry at Sam in broken English.

"A _what?_" Sam asked, confused.

"Inner Party member! Your speak is uselessly _plushard!"_

"So, what's his job?" Sam responded.

"Thinkpol. Removing Thoughtcrime," the machine uttered.

"In English, please?"

"Thought Police. _Quiet!" _

Meanwhile, human children screamed as a dozen of large projectiles rained from the sky, lading around the evacuation area. Before long, the projectiles' shells opened, and revealed themselves to be automated turrets.

Dragging Sam, the green soldier carried him towards an air blimp as the turrets fired.

* * *

**Prologue, before Oceania arrived at Earth  
**

"Sam! I need the project files by next month, or there's going to be consequences! You're not senior enough in this company to slack off!" Sam's boss barked.

"But I'm going to a vacation tomorrow for two weeks. I mentioned it to you about six months ago," Sam protested, looking earnestly at the man seated across from him.

Sam's boss was silent for a few seconds.

"Fine. I'll just go and bully the new guy," the executive conceded, eyeing his employee.

"Thanks, Mr. Charles," Sam replied with a smile.

Turning and striding out of Mr. Charles' office, Sam packed up his bag and left his cubicle. Then, picking up his cell phone, he dialed a number.

"Hey Carly, I was wondering, do you still want to go with me on the vaca-"

There was a loud click, and the call was canceled. A repeat of a text message was sent to him two weeks ago arrived a few seconds later.

'You're not my boyfriend anymore.'

Shaking his head, Sam headed out to the parking lot, and observed a carjacker breaking into Bumblebee.

As soon as the thief attempted to hotwire the ignition, all of the doors were automatically hard locked, and Bumblebee took off for a joyride to teach the unlucky carjacker a lesson. Of course, the poor guy started screaming, and uselessly attempted to open the door and window when he realized that he broke into the wrong car.

"I guess I'll have to take the bus...again," Sam muttered, sighing.

* * *

**Disclaimer:I do not own the Transformer's or 1984's franchise rights.**


	2. Chapter Two, Vacation Crash

**Chapter Two, Vacation Crash**

* * *

"Take a left turn onto Tree road," the GPS suggested.

_"What?... There's no left turn available!"_

Sam then continued to drive down the country road in a distinctive yellow and black Chevy Camaro, but he was unable to admire the beautiful sunset and the forest because of the wonky GPS.

"Recalculating… Take a U-turn, drive .1 mile and take a right turn onto Tree Road."

"Recalculating… Take a U-turn, drive .6 mile and take a right turn onto Tree Road."

"Recalculating… Take a U-turn, drive 1 mile and take a right turn onto Tree Road."

A hole suddenly opened up underneath the GPS device, swallowing it up.

"Thanks Bumblebee… But how am I going to get to the motel now?"

Shortly afterwards, he passed a small sign that said, "Welcome to Indiana".

_I think I'm going to use my Visa card. Can't wait to use the vacation reward cashbacks that I saved up for this trip._

* * *

"How's the drilling, Bob?" an oil rig worker approached Bob, with his boots crunching on North Dakota's soil.

"Frank, what if I was to tell you that we used hydraulic fracturing… On empty rocks?..."

"No oil or gas?"

"Yup. The geologist screwed up. And I checked several times to make sure that the team didn't do a half-crap job."

"So much money went down the drain..."

Bob chuckled at the pun, until some objects streaked across the sky.

"What were those?" Frank asked.

"I have no idea. I'm going to check my phone for any news about a meteor shower."

Bob then pulled out his phone, and squinted at a large headline.

"Let's see… Saudi Arabia reported significant shelling from unknown locations with a majority of them landing around oil drilling, refinery, and military base locations. Nigeria requested UN intervention, citing a major escalation in 'civic unrest' at their harbor facilities and oil refineries."

He scrolled down the webpage, and continued to read.

"China has gone mostly dark, and a battle outside the Ministry of Public Security headquarters were confirmed by satellites, with apparently significant casualties and destructions. The MPS manages the Great Firewall, which may explain the blockage of all connections. A Google server facility in Germany and Singapore have been held hostage by unknown persons, and a major shootout between the police and gray armored 'midget' gunmen occurred at Facebook's headquarters."

Then, a 35 stories tall projectile crashed a few miles away, and the shockwaves from the impact knocked everyone to the ground. A few other smaller projectiles also followed.

"The hell was that?" one of the drill workers asked.

The projectile split open, revealing a massive machinery that was only somewhat smaller than the projectile, and had a flag symbol on it that showed a black and a white hand holding together, with the words "Ingsoc" labeled below.

"Did anyone spike my coffee with LSD?" Someone asked.

A mechanical voice boomed from the 30 stories tall war machine over dozens of square miles. A massive plume of black smoke poured from a pipe on top of the war machine; it was a coal-powered variant, popular because it was cheap and even if destroyed, it wouldn't set off a nuclear mushroom cloud. The faster firing, more mobile, and more expensive machines of war were equipped with the finest reactors that Oceanian industries could produce, which were less stable than the humans' 1960's nuclear reactors.

"**All hail Big Brother! You are all now citizens of the doubleplusgood Oceania! Be calm, we come in unwar! End speakchange from onethree edition Newspeak to alien speak."**

The machine activated its infrared laser weapons, and shortly afterwards, a burning F-22 jet fighter dived uncontrollably out of the clouds before being hit with a railgun round.

"**Any doubleplusungood actions against the doubleplusgood Oceania… Will be dealt with… Accordingly. Joycamp included. Ungood, speakchanger storage doubleplusflow. Restarting speakchanger. "**

"I don't think anyone tampered with your coffee." Frank whispered.

A several feet away, an employee was recording the event on his phone, intending to post it on Facebook and Youtube. Just as she was about to upload the video, an atmospheric entry shell loaded with Oceanian infantry slammed into the only cellular tower servicing the area, much to her disappointment.

But that would be the least of hers, or anyone's problem, because chunks of the International Space Station also came raining down. Apparently Oceania didn't think it was necessary to install collision avoidance systems with their atmospheric entry shells.

* * *

Sam tossed and turned in his bed at 1am. Something was bothering him, but he couldn't figure out what was going on. He decided to call his parents, turn on the phone, and selected 'Contacts List'.

However, the first two times he attempted to call, nobody picked up the phone.

On his third call, it was finally picked up, but he heard something disturbing.

"Oh god, why are you doing this?!" a voice begged, Sam identifying as his mother's.

"This is the Thinkpol. We know you are the mother of a plusimportant person."

And then there was a sound of a boot crunching the phone, followed by a disconnection notice. He raced out of his motel room to the parking lot, hastily bringing his travel case with him. Bumblebee opened the door for him, and as soon as he got into the driver's seat, a display unfolded from the ceiling.

"Sam, we have some serious problems."

"I know, Optimus Prime. My parents just got kidnapped so the Deceptions can find me, again" Sam said.

"No, that's not the point. There's been numerous attacks throughout the world. Some of them simply being terror missions, other specifically targeting important infrastructure such as oil refineries and internet connection hubs. There's a large teleportation station that appeared out of nowhere just a few hours ago, and a significant number of alien forces are exiting from it. Their vehicles are not Cybertronian designs," Optimus replied.

"What are we going to do?"

"The President informed us that he'll destroy the station with nuclear weapons. We're going to have to do a lot of cleanup of the invaders though."

_There goes my vacation plans…_

"So, where should I go when the invaders are looking for me?" Sam asked.

"You're going to have to come with us."

"Great…"

As Bumblebee in the car form backed out of the parking space and drove towards the lot's exit, a volley of atmosphere entry shells burned across the cloudy night sky, landing around the motel some distance away.

"I don't think those are Christmas presents" Bumblebee commented as he took a sharp turn and raced down the road at over 100 mph.

"Let's roll Autobots. We can't let them capture Sam." Optimus ordered, before the video turned off.

Several grenades exploded around Bumblebee. Sam looked up and noticed an air blimp emerging from one of the shells, already firing its weapons towards his direction. Up ahead was a roadblock manned by several green soldiers. Bumblebee drove off the road, transformed into his combat form, and started running through the forest to avoid getting fired upon. Fortunately for Bumblebee and Sam, much of the Oceanian force that arrived were at the motel instead of the roadblock.

Unfortunately for the Oceanian units that were ordered to capture Sam, they would have something else to shoot at. The arriving Autobots.

* * *

"So he got away?" a certain commander asked, while looking at a gigantic telescreen that was monitoring all of the Thinkpol's operations in captured areas and sleeper agents.

"Yes." A lower ranking officer replied.

"Let's see, first, one of my sleeper agents in the FBI went dark shortly after ordering her to pull up any information about Sam's recent activities. After that, I spent three entire battalions and a machine of war on capturing Visa's and MasterCard's headquarters that could've been spent on killing that group of red-eye tin cans in Washington DC. Instead, the battalions are being sieged by enemy forces with no means of retreat, and some of the tin cans are disguised as our air blimps and infantry support mechs. Possibly our machine of war as well. And now I have to explain the slapstick comedy to the Ministry of Peace of why I need additional battalions for the Thinkpol."

"What to do?"

"Find the kid and the red-eye tin cans. Preferably the kid alive and the tin cans dead. Or somebody is going to the Joycamp, and it won't be me."

A message arrived through a pneumatic tube, and the commander walked over to pick it up.

"Space teleporter destroyed. Expect a delay of at least two weeks before a teleportation station in Africa is operational."

He then crumpled the message and threw it into the Memory Hole, a chute that supposedly lead to an incinerator. "Fantastic news. Now I can't drop anything on top of that kid's head, and now I actually have to micromanage the logistics so my deployed army can reach the location."

"Permission to ask an off-topic question?" the lower ranking officer asked.

"Permission granted."

"Why is it that some of the Inner Party members like us use the Oldspeak, and the rest of Oceania uses the onethree edition Newspeak?"

"Because unlike our previous stalemating wars with Eurasia and Eastasia, we actually need strategists to conquer the universe. And a dumb strategist…"

The commander hit a button on the telescreen's control panel.

"Causes this."

The telescreen displayed a grainy footage of one of the Thinkpol's military companies being torn apart by the Autobots at the motel in Indiana. "DOCTOR!" one of the green soldiers yelled before getting stepped on. In the background, a platoon of the black line infantry was constantly repositioning themselves since the Autobots weren't exactly immobile targets, but a red and blue semi-truck plowed through them as it transformed into Optimus Prime.

A few gray soldiers were nearby, and redirected their fire on Optimus. However, low caliber weapons and shotguns were somewhat ineffective against targets made of entirely metal, and they were sent flying after Optimus swung his arm at them.

"They didn't kill any of those tin cans..." the commander facepalmed.


	3. Chapter Three, Speaking with the Devil

**Chapter Three, Speaking with the Devil**

* * *

Sam was watching the CNN news anchor on an old CRT TV that he found while taking refuge in an abandoned warehouse, trying to comprehend what was going on. Bumblebee sat behind him and was also paying attention to the news. Optimus had tasked Bumblebee with protecting Sam since the Autobots were occupied with mopping up Oceanian forces and searching for Sam's parents.

"China has restored very limited connections after the internet blackout. Beijing insisted that they had everything under control and rioters were responsible for the attack."

The graphic background then changed to displaying the chaos ongoing in the Middle East region.

"Oil prices are expected to skyrocket to over $200 per barrel with the major unrest in the Middle East, which has seen one of the heaviest fighting due to an alarmingly large number of alien forces. Saudi Arabia and Iran have completely gone dark, and Kuwait became the first country to officially surrender to the aliens. Other major oil producing areas such as the Canadian oil sands in the province of Alberta, the Russian Siberians, and states such as North Dakota, Texas and Pennsylvania have also experienced significant conflicts, which will disrupt oil production."

The background changed to a Russian press conference, with the news anchor continuing on.

"In other news, President Putin of Russia has announced that the implementation of the internet kill-switch was complete. Despite outcries from human rights activists and concerns from the international security communities given the blackouts that occurred in other countries, he insisted that the kill switch would be used to protect Russia from cyberterrorism and precautionary measures were taken to prevent an unauthorized activation."

Someone walked up to the news anchor and handed him a sheet of paper, before walking off stage.

As Sam observed the activity, he thought to himself, "Did they not pay any attention to what happened to China?"

"I'm sorry, but there has been an apparent change of events. President Putin was kidnapped in an ambush shortly before Russia went dark. The last footage our news reporting team managed to submit was this," The news anchor motioned towards the footage being displayed.

The Spetsnaz were holding out in the building where the internet kill-switch control was located, and were fighting a losing battle against a flood of Oceanian infantry, backed up by grenade launching armored mechs and two coal-powered machines of war. A beaten and bleeding Vladimir Putin was being dragged towards the building by two green infantry in the middle of the commotion.

Four heavily armored Mi-24 Hind helicopter gunships attempted to escort a transport helicopter (to evacuate the president) and break the aliens' siege, but all five helicopters were quickly shot down by the Oceanian green infantry and machines of war's laser weapons. One of the laser weapons pointed upward, and shortly afterward, a jet bomber exploded far up in the atmosphere.

Then the footage suddenly stopped.

"NASA reported that the remaining alien invaders still in the outer space are starting to indiscriminately target satellites after their orbital teleport station was hit with a nuclear missile. It's very likely that the transportation, telecommunication, agriculture, and fishing industries will be hit hard due to their extensive reliance on GPS, which will send food prices skyrocketing. The _Shallow Horizon _oil tanker nearly ran aground off the coast of Louisiana this afternoon after the failing GPS network reported incorrect speed and location."

There was a noise of gunfire in the background of the news anchor room, along with some screams.

"President Obama declared a federal state of emergency in his bunker after the White House was damaged from a three-way skirmish between two alien factions and the National Guard."

Somebody off camera shouted, "Get off! There're coming!"

"I apologize for this minor interruption. God bless America. God save us all." The news anchor ran off the stage, shortly followed by several gray soldiers entering the room and opening fire. One of the soldiers walked up to the camera and attached a small piece of paper over the lens, a printing of a stern-looking person with the words typed below, "Big Brother is Watching You."

Sam's cellphone started ringing.

_Oh no, I forgot to throw it away_

He pressed the 'Accept' button, curious to hear what Oceania has to say.

"Hello Sam. I know what you're thinking, that we could've tracked you by triangulating your phone's signal. But I have other priorities, such as figuring out how to use information that we mined from the Iranian government's classified domestic spying operations to get rid of… problematic Iranian citizens. Anyways, I came here to explain our position."

"Right, right. I'm totally listening," Sam replied. Bumblebee appeared alarmed and reached for to phone to destroy it, but Sam motioned him to stop.

"A lot of people think that we're here to enslave everyone. That's only the half-truth. Because we're here to finish a job. A job that your species started on since the formation of the first civilizations."

"Bull."

"The Romans started with a semi-democratic government, then replaced it with a dictatorship. Argentina's relatively unstable governments declared 52 state of emergencies from 1854 to 2010, almost all of them were unnecessary and were used to abuse power. Slavery existed before recorded history, and now it's under a new name, human trafficking."

"And your point?"

"My point is that your species has a habit of controlling others, and came close to a worldwide dictatorship with World War Two and the Cold War. We're going to do what your species wanted."

"That's not true. What about the democratic countries?"

"European Union and its defective members such as Portugal, Spain, Italy, and especially Greece. Hired protestors. McCarthyism. The Texan legislators that wanted to ban the teaching of critical thinking skills so "parental authority" and students' "fixed beliefs" aren't challenged… They're amateurs."

"Finland, Norway, Sweden, and Switzerland?"

"By the end of this campaign, those four countries would no longer exist. Western Europe will become Airstrip 1, and northern Europe will become Airstrip 3. Any evidences that mention any non-Oceanian things will be 'corrected', or fed to the Memory Hole. Which is a chute that leads to an incinerator."

"I don't understand."

"What do you not understand?"

"Why you want to erase our entire history?"

"Who says we're going to do that? Oceania always existed on Earth, and humans have always been part of the double plus good Oceania."

"I'm confused."

"When this campaign is over, you won't be able to prove that we destroyed your history. We're also going to destroy any evidences that mention the destruction of proof of humans existing without Oceania, such as deleting records of this phone conversation. Then we're going to destroy any evidences that mention evidences that mentioned the destruction of your species' history. After that, we will forget about it and believe our own lies because there's nothing to prove that anything happened. And we'll make sure your species will cooperate."

Sam said nothing, and the unknown caller continued on.

"If you want a vision of the future, imagine a boot stamping on not just my species, the species that we conquered before we showed up at Earth, the humans, and the tin cans, but every species in the universe. **Forever**.

Oh, and we have plans to ensure that any evidences of our conquering of other civilizations will be fed to the Memory Hole."

"Why are you doing this?" Sam demanded, ready to disconnect the call.

"You may think we're going to deprive of your freedom. However, humans are not free from their ultimate failure, death. But, by integrating their consciousness with the Party, an immortal organization, they themselves become immortal."

"I disagree. The ultimate failure is when one fails to make someone's life easier," Sam argued, hoping to reason with the aliens.

There was a brief chuckle from caller, then the alien continued.

"It's easy to become sane. What I talked about earlier is called double think, the concept of accepting multiple contradictory evidences. And your language has a word for that, hypocrisy. Think of the asbestos industry denying that asbestos dust causes cancer, or the tobacco industry claiming that cigarettes have no effect on smokers' health.

Also, you have my words that we won't persecute you. By the way, when we capture and torture you, we will make you forget that we persecuted you and delete any records of this phone conversation. Which makes me truthful in the end, because only the favorable version of the story will remain intact."

The phone call abruptly disconnected. Sam yanked the battery out of the cellphone and threw the phone against a concrete pillar.

"Come on Bumblebee! We have to go!" Bumblebee immediately transformed into the Camaro car and begin to take off as Sam hopped into the driver seat. They crashed through the front garage door, catching a few gray soldiers off-guard and throwing them across the concrete lot. An air blimp opened fire, but this time it was hovering a bit low on the ground. Bumblebee droved underneath the blimp, transformed into the robot form (and ejecting a surprised Sam out), jumped up, and boarded the blimp, much to the crew's horror.

Several seconds later, he jumped off a burning blimp and landed on a gray and a green soldier that were attempting to capture Sam, plastering them against the pavement face-first. He transformed back into the Camaro and Sam climbed back into the driver seat before Bumblebee drove off beyond 100 mph, mashing Sam against the seat. The burning blimp fell to the ground and exploded, catching a few Oceanian soldiers in the blast.

"InPart will unlike the ungood, battle became ungood. We did ungood." a gray soldier mumbled in Newspeak from a distance, observing the failure of capturing Sam.

An oddly bulky mech unit with additional weapons with its grenade launchers walked up to the soldier. "Hello comrade!" the soldier greeted, and was blasted away with a grenade to the face. The mech transformed and revealed itself to be Brawl, the heaviest armored Deception. A volley of railgun rounds from a black infantry platoon knocked him down, left deep dents in him and damaged one of his missile launchers, but failed to kill him. When three green soldiers jogged up to check if he was dead, he immediately blew them into pieces with explosive cannon rounds, and then stunned the black infantry platoon with a volley of his missiles. Before they could get back up and fire, he jumped on top of the downed platoon and stomped them into paste or shot them at point-blank range.

He then went about his business slaughtering every last breathing Oceanian infantry in the area and shooting down three arriving air blimps, but two dozens of gray soldiers managed to jump off the blimps before their transportation vehicles exploded. He started laughing uncontrollably when the surviving gray soldiers charged him with shotguns and pickaxes, and then mowed them down.

"Megatron, the alien meatbags scared him away," Brawl reported in via radio, reviewing the carnage of the Thinkpol's 5th Armed Doubleplusspeed Response Company, which now consisted of about 150 corpses in varying conditions.

"Search and eliminate any aliens or Autobots. We don't need the competition. And should you find Sam again, please liberate him from the Autobots, or the aliens."

"Happily."

A group of police cars arrived on the scene after concerned residents in the area reported the commotion. They didn't last as long as the Thinkpol forces.


End file.
